For Me
by Lyla Hayden
Summary: Harry tries to kill himself and who saves him? Draco. Why? You’ll see. HPDM slash. Don’t like it? Don’t read it. [One-shot]


A/N: o.o Just a little warning thing. There is slash, and it is dark, to begin with, not to spoil anything. I just hate bad endings. x.x Anyway, Harry tries to kill himself and who saves him? Draco. Why? You'll see. HPDM slash. Don't like it? Don't read it.

If I didn't say it before, sorry. This is a one-shot. I don't see how I could carry on with it. If you have any ideas as to how I could carry on, you can e-mail me with them, or put them in your review and then MAYBE I'll write some more. ::Smile::

-For Me-

By Lyla Hayden

I don't do it for you, I do it for me.

The blade slices through the layers of skin and blood flows out, carrying with it all my pains and all of the weight on my shoulders.

This is for me.

I feel the pain of it, dimly, as though it isn't really there, and maybe, just maybe, it isn't. The pain of the cut doesn't overwhelm to pain inside. I dig the knife once more into my flesh, taking it deeper then the one before it in hopes of relieving some of the pain resting in my heart.

I don't do it for you.

Because of you, maybe.

Because of me, surely.

You are not at fault.

Do not blame yourself.

Blame me.

Blood falls to the floor in small puddles. I shift my stance and think to myself all of my reasons for doing this to me. To you. I hiss as I make just one more cut, longer, thicker, deeper then all the others.

I should make a list. Yes. A list.

Voldemort. He seems to be the source of most of my pain. He killed my parents, he, not by his own hand, though, killed Sirius. He caused me to live life as a celebrity instead of a normal boy. He made me the Boy-Who-Lived. He cursed me to suffer throughout my life, fighting the man who tried to slay me when I was but a baby.

School. It doesn't seem like much, really. Not when added to the first. Not when every other teenager has to go through the same thing. Maybe I should be more clear on this one. It isn't school, it's the people in it. Snape torments my classes, and the Slytherins add to that. I wonder if they knew that the Sorting Hat had originally wanted to put me in that house, would that change their minds about the famous Harry Potter? Probably not. Malfoy would be the cause of that one. Sure, it was seventh year, school was almost over, but would the people really change all that much in the working field? Probably not.

The war. I'm not alone in this one, really. Everyone is faced with the trails and pains in the war against Voldemort. Maybe I should've put this one under the first number then, huh?

Hermione and Ron. They aren't doing anything wrong, really. It's just their constant nagging. Their nagging and their cuddling. Couples tend to annoy me as of late. It doesn't help that since they're dating, I seem to have become the third wheel. Fun for me. NOT.

Me. This is a big one. Me. Myself. I. I dislike myself. I'm tired of myself. Don't you ever just wish that you could take a vacation from yourself? I'd bet a galleon on the fact that I want it more. It's me that everyone seems so keen on. The papers all want things on the great Boy-Who-Didn't-Fucking-Die. And I just want to end it all.

One thing I haven't told anyone. I know that no one else has any idea. I just happen to be gay. I'm a flamin' fag. Peachy. Not only do I have to be so different in that every witch and wizard knows my name and scar, but now I have to be gay.

So there are my reasons. Mainly number one and five, but I have to include them all, you know. As you can see, even though your name might be on the list, it isn't for you, but for me.

The pain fades into oblivion and another cut sears my flesh, scarring it for the rest of my life. I ignore the massive amounts of blood on the floor and make a few more cuts, trying my best to keep them straight and deep.

I run out of room on that arm and so I move onto the next. Someone knocks on the door. Maybe it's you. I doubt it. Slytherins don't come into the Gryffindor prefect's bathroom, do they? No.

The knocking becomes more frantic and I scream for them to go away. "Potter, let me in, you fucking arse!" Ah...so it is you. Malfoy.

"Fuck off!" I scream in return. While I was distracted I had made the cut too deep. Oh well. I was planning on dieing anyway. I toss the knife aside, drowning in the pain I already had, and slumped against the door.

"Potter! Damnit!"

"What do you want?"

"I want you to let me the fuck in!"

"Could you wait just another...twenty minutes or so? Then you can peel my rotting corpse away from the door so you could use the WRONG BATHROOM!" I scream at him before I start laughing.

"POTTER! You can't die! You haven't killed the Dark Lord yet!"

"So? You do it."

"Harry!" I blink and look up at the door as if I could see through it. See him leaning against the heavy wooden door and banging on it frantically. He called me Harry. You called me Harry.

"Fuck off, Malfoy," I say, but it has no emotion behind it. "Let me die in peace." I hear some random unlocking spells and I know one has worked. That would be why I was sitting against the door.

"Harry, move your arse, damnit!"

"Nope." I laugh as the door pushes against me. He'll get in, I know he will. That doesn't mean I won't put it off until he can't do anything to save me. There are too many cuts, too many too deep. Too much blood.

I feel my stomach do a flip-flop and I crawl away from the door, reaching for me knife. Not enough blood. I need more. Just a little bit more. Somewhere in my mind I hear the door fly open and someone run in.

Hands rip the knife away from me before I could do anything. They grab at me. They pick me up. I scream and kick, but the warmth was overwhelming and I was weak. I didn't really want that warm body to go away.

Wind.

I felt wind.

Then...nothing.

Black.

Darkness.

Nothingness.

I open my eyes for what feels like the first time in months, but I know better. People were standing all around, some crying, some just staring. Blonde hair...there was blonde hair on my pillow.

I looked over next to me and found Malfoy curled up beside me, his legs pulled up to his chest and his back to me. "Mal-" I can't seem to finish that as I realize that I have no voice. Why can't I say it?

I run my hands through the silky hair. Don't ask me why. I just couldn't help it. I nearly jumped through the roof when the hair fell from my grasp and a head turned around to face mine.

His eyes were teary and he looked to have been crying. Wait...crying? Why was he crying? Before I could think much on it, he jumped on me. His legs encircled my waist, his arms my neck. He buried his face in my shoulder and he cried.

By now, the people in the room had gathered to see what all the commotion was about. Some smiled. Some frowned. Some turned away. Most just smiled. "Mister Malfoy, you need to let go of Mister Potter so he might rest."

I almost laughed when he lifted one hand towards Madam Pomfrey and flipped her off. I guess he didn't want to go. I guess you didn't want to go. This whole thing was making no sense, but then again, what part of my life did.

It took hours before Malfoy let go. Hours more before he said anything. I found that I couldn't sleep but I could talk. Madam Pomfrey said that it was a temporary side effect of the medicine she used to heal my cuts. Which were all gone, by the way. Not even one scar scorned my body.

When Malfoy spoke, it was just one hoarse word..."Why?" I didn't answer with what he wanted, and I knew it. I answered with my own question.

"Why do you care?"

"Just because I harass you, doesn't mean that I don't like you."

"So...you like me?" I asked confusedly. He turned a bright red and I smiled. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Why did you do it?"

And so began this tale.

#&&&&#&&&&#

Harry sighed and leaned back against the stack of pillows behind him as he finished telling Draco the story. Draco sat up and looked at him in slight shock. "Do you really feel that way?" Harry nodded and closed his eyes, glad for the private room that Madam Pomfrey had given him.

Arms wrapped around his shoulders and he opened his eyes again. Draco was hugging him? "I'm sorry," the Slytherin muttered softly, his face buried in the side of Harry's neck and he shivered involuntarily at the feeling of moving lips on his skin.

Slowly, Harry put his arms around Draco. Draco looked up at the Gryffindor and smiled before putting his face back in the crook of Harry's neck. He flicked his tongue out over the tender skin causing the boy to gasp. But he didn't push the blonde away, so he continued, alternating between nibbling softly and licking.

Harry couldn't suppress the moan that fell from his mouth. He had more then just a way with words, eh? Harry ran his fingers through the silk fibers and grabbed softly, pulling him away from his neck.

Draco went willingly, thinking that he didn't want him to do that, but soon found out he was wrong as warm lips met his own. Draco closed his eyes, leaning into Harry's touch.

Harry's other hand, the one not in the other boy's hair, trailed down Draco's back, stopping only to slide under his shirt and up his back, pressing the boy tight against him. Draco moaned and worked his hands between them.

They slid apart only for a minute, and only to remove each other's clothing. Then Draco folded against him, pressing him into the bed. His mouth fit softly against Harry's and he rubbed his erection against the one beneath him.

Harry moaned and arched his back slightly, thrusting up into the boy that lay over him. Draco broke the kiss for a moment to mutter, "I want you. I want you inside of me, Harry." And that was all that Harry needed. He reached down and slipped one finger inside the Slytherin teen.

One finger soon turned to two, two to three, and then the fingers disappeared completely, replaced with something bigger, longer, warmer. Draco winced at first, moving a bit to try and adjust himself to the feeling, before urging Harry to move.

And move he did. The room was filled with the moans and words of love, or maybe it was lust. Whatever it was, it was over too soon. He had stroked Draco to completion and Harry was the first to come, the sensations of it pushing Draco just that little bit further.

Draco collapsed on Harry, bringing the Gryffindor in for a deep, passion-filled kiss that was very well received. Harry pulled out, much to the disappointment of the blonde, but was compensated by another kiss.

The two fell asleep and woke the next morning to a scream, some swear words, and more yelling. Harry groaned and rolled over, wrapping himself around the other boy lying next to him.

"Oh, gods..."

Draco was the first to actually wake up enough to notice what was going on. He looked to see who it was in the room and found himself blushing. Not only was Madam Pomfrey there, but so was Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, and Snape.

Not. Good.

"Hello there," Draco said weakly, shying away from the crowd, sinking farther into the sheets and Harry.

"What the hell are you two doing?"

"Sleeping," Harry grunted, grabbing Draco tighter. "Go away now."

"With pleasure!" Everyone but Dumbledore shouted and ran out. Dumbledore just smiled and then walked away, shutting the door behind him as he left snickering softly to himself.

"Harry...I'm sticky."

"Good for you, love." Draco looked down at the smirking boy. He moaned when he felt a hand wrap around his shaft. "Up for some more?"

-End-

A/N: o.o; I was upset...so I wrote this...The first part is a reflection of how I felt. Then I talked to some people and I cheered up. So...Yah...No flames please. I don't like them. They just prove the fact that 99.8 percent of people are horrible.

Don't make me think you one of that 99.8 percent now, dearies. Reviewers are loved. ::Hearts::


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